


Show Me Your Boots

by Ellen Smithee (ellensmithee)



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Boot Worship, Comment Fic, F/M, Lust Spell, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-31
Updated: 2011-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:11:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellensmithee/pseuds/Ellen%20Smithee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Bonnie's spells goes awry and Damon discovers a new fetish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me Your Boots

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Bonnie/Damon kink meme on LJ, prompt: boots.

Damon looks up from his book as Bonnie suddenly bursts into the room, the grimoire in her arms. What draws his gaze however, is her outfit, black suede boots with gold trim and a gold mini-dress that barely covers her ass.

"Hot date with Jeremy?" he asks. His eyes linger on the curve of her legs from the top of the boots to just under her dress as he unconsciously licks his lips.

"Yeah, later," Bonnie says absently as she puts the book on the table and opens it, thumbing through it rapidly. When she finds the page, she looks up, excitement shining in her eyes. "I may've found something we can use against Klaus. I wanna try it out."

He's already on his feet, crossing the room to stand next to her. He can feel the heat of her lithe body and _smell_ her, a heady mixture of blood, leather, and her own luscious scent. He's aching for a touch, for a _taste_ , but he doesn't want to endanger their tentative truce.

"Fine. What should I do?"

Bonnie grins at him and then thrusts some sort of stone object covered in arcane symbols into his hand.

"Just hold this."

Damon grips it and then Bonnie does as well, her fingers curling around his hand, and then she starts to chant.

When she's finished, nothing happens for a moment, but then a gust of air whirls through the room, fluttering the pages of the grimoire, and a surge of power flows through them.

Bonnie lets out a sigh of relief.

"Well that's it. Do you think it worked?"

She looks up to meet Damon's eyes, but something in their depths seems to startle her. She tries to let go of him and the object, the cool stone warmed by their rising body heat, but he closes his fingers around her hand and starts to pull her closer.

"Damon, what-- _oh_."

He sees the moment she understands, the moment the lust clouds her eyes. Suddenly she is pressed against him, covering him with her scent as he grabs her leg, pulling it up to his waist. He runs his hands over the soft suede of the boots, over her shapely knee, and then up her thigh, following the path of his earlier thoughts.

"Bonnie..." he whispers. "Get undressed."

She steps away and looks at him for a moment, a certain amount of repugnance for what they are about to do shining through, but no little amount of lust as well. She pulls the dress off over her head, and then her white cotton bra and panties, which make him crazier than any lingerie could right now, swiftly follow. Then, she boosts herself onto the table next to the grimoire and reaches for the fastenings of one of the boots.

"No."

Damon licks his lips as he looks her over from head to toe, his gaze lingering on her legs. He is naked now as well and he's stroking himself as he stares at her. If he doesn't touch her soon, he won't need her to set him on fire for him to burn.

"Leave the boots on."

Bonnie just _looks_ at him and he leans over her.

"Don't be so judgy," he whispers. "You know you love it."

Bonnie swallows hard and then her eyes fall closed as he pushes her onto her back on the table, not ungently, his gaze devouring her as he runs his fingers lightly from her shoulders to her breasts, pausing to squeeze them, his thumbs teasing the nipples to peaks. His hands tickle her ribs and then slide down her torso. Her breath is heaving through her lungs, and he _loves_ knowing it's for _him_.

He spreads her thighs and the scent of her musk hits him, making him harder still. She cries out as he pushes inside and then she grimaces, in self-disgust, he assumes, and he laughs softly, mockingly. Her eyes fly open and she snaps her legs around him, drawing him in deeper as her heels dig into his ass.

"Shut up and fuck me, Damon."

"Gladly, witch," he breathes, his eyes gleaming at her as he starts to move with excruciating slowness. Sliding his hands up one of her thighs, he extricates her leg from around his waist and pushes her leg up over his shoulder, thrusting more deeply.

As he does this, the leather of the boot rubs against his face, eliciting an excited moan from deep in his throat. Holding her thigh steady, he nuzzles the boot, running his nose toward the toe as he inhales the scent of leather and then licking a path from the instep up the inside of her leg to the point where the boot meets her skin. He mouths her skin, tightening his grip on her leg as she starts and almost pulls away, and then presses a kiss in the hollow of her knee before teasing it with his tongue.

She whimpers, breaking his trance, and his eyes dart to her face. He draws in a sharp breath as he realizes she's been watching him, her breath coming in ragged breaths as one hand strokes her clit and the other pinches and teases a nipple. All at once he loses it, no longer able to keep up the torturous pace. Grasping the edge of the table, he starts to pound into her, hard and fast as she starts to moan and babble, sobbing "Damon" and "yes and "oh, _God_ " over and over again. She shrieks and he starts to shoot as her muscles clamp down on his cock.

Afterwards, they hold each other, panting, as they come down from it, from that compulsion or _need_ or whatever it was, and then she's jerking away with a sound of revulsion. His jaw tightens, but before he can retaliate with a sharp comment, she's pulling on her clothes as she leans over the grimoire, the sight of her ass--of _those boots_ \--distracting him, tugging anew at his cock.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Bonnie mutters, scowling as she studies the page. "I misread Emily's handwriting. It says _lust_ , not _lost_ \--I thought it was a banishing spell!"

"Oops." Damon steps up behind her, his mouth close to her ear. "Whatever will Jeremy say when he finds out?"

"Damon..."

Her voice carries a warning and her elbow jabs, but he's already across the room. He won't say anything, of course, not now, not later. Not yet, at least. Maybe never.

Not as long as she wears those boots.


End file.
